


Miyoshi Kazunari, Ministering Angel

by eveningstar



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 02:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16150442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveningstar/pseuds/eveningstar
Summary: English fandom lacked one of the standard Kazunari-returns-the-favour-from-camp stories and that just wouldn't do. (Very brief BanJu mention.)





	Miyoshi Kazunari, Ministering Angel

**Author's Note:**

> From the Full Bloom Fan Letters exchange.

Unbelievable. Devastating. Shocking. A disgrace.

There he was, Kazunari Miyoshi, Ultimate Media Creator, having just completed another, not to put too fine a point on it, masterpiece of a flyer, looking to reward himself for a job, if he may say so himself, very well done, with one of those _heavenly_ cookies Omi had made yesterday, only to find the plastic container completely barren. The injustice of it all struck him to his very core.

Still, he thought, every cloud has a silver lining - if there are no sweets left in the house, what better excuse to go out for sweets, maybe to that new cafe Settsuar had mentioned on the way to uni the other day, the one with the fairy floss served on top of ice cream with cookies and berries hidden in the center. Although, desserts on top of other desserts had pretty much reached saturation point, so he’d probably only get a couple of hundred likes...

Of course, Banri hadn’t been so much recommending the place as complaining about how Juza had eaten not only eaten all of his own ice cream but half of Banri’s as well, and how he’d smeared strawberry syrup on his chin like a fucking child - and doing an absolutely terrible job at keeping the affection out of his voice. Kazunari couldn’t help but be a little jealous. It must be nice to have a boyfriend who would let you indulge him from time to time, who didn’t get offended when you offered to pay, even though you were the older one so you had every right - one might even say responsibility! - to be the one to pay (and by doing so, demonstrating how cool and grown up you were so that you could bring it up next time he accused you of acting like a child).

At any rate, he had set aside the whole day for working on the flyer and wasn’t really sure he wanted to go to all the effort of putting contacts in and doing his hair just to get ice-cream and a couple of hundred likes…

He was pondering this great dilemma in the kitchen when he heard the front door open and a voice weakly call out, “I’m home.”

“Tsuzurun?” Kazunari replied. Why was Tsuzurun home so early? He had class until the evening on Thursday - had it suddenly been cancelled?

Maybe this was a divine reward, the universe making up for the lack of cookies, bringing him an entire glorious afternoon alone in the dorms with Tsuzurun. Silently giving his thanks, he went to the entrance to welcome him home - but coolly, not rushing, he didn’t want to look desperate or anything.

As soon as he saw Tsuzuru, all thoughts of reward flew from his mind. He looked awful. He was pale and sweating, his nose red and eyes unfocused.

“Tsuzurun?!”

Tsuzuru groaned, obviously nowhere near as happy to see his boyfriend as Kazunari had been.

“It’s just a cold,” he said wearily, voice barely more than a croak, and held up the plastic bag he was carrying, “I bought medicine and CC Lemon, I’ll be fine, just let me sleep.”

But Kazunari was already on his knees, untying Tsuzuru’s shoes. He took one hand and placed it on his shoulder, encouraging Tsuzuru to use him for balance as he lifted one foot out of its shoe, then the other.

“I can - ” Apparently deciding finishing his sentence was a waste of his limited energy, Tsuzuru just sighed.

“Come on.” Kazunari tugged on Tsuzuru’s hands, pulling him down the hallway. “You just get changed and get into bed. I’ll bring you everything you need.”

Tsuzuru tried to pull his hands away.

“I don’t need anything… It’s fine - I’m…” he broke into a coughing fit and Kazunari patted him on the back.

“You took care of me when I got sick on camp - it’s only fair,” he said, pushing Tsuzuru into his room and closing the door. “Get changed! I’ll be back soon!”

Kazunari sighed as he headed for the kitchen. A lesser man would be offended by his boyfriend refusing his assistance so thoroughly. A lesser man, or at least one who wasn’t used to Tsuzuru’s constant rebuffs.

When he returned to Room 102, Tsuzuru had at least obediently changed into his pyjamas and was lying in bed. Kazunari set his tray of healing treasures down on the table and climbed up the ladder. Tsuzuru opened his eyes and, upon seeing what Kazunari thought was his best comforting and reassuring smile, closed them again with a groan.

“I told you -”

Kazunari hushed him - he was honestly starting to feel more than a little hurt by the rejection of his attempts to devotedly nurse his loved one back to health, and if he had to hear any more he might snap. But when he pressed a damp cloth to his face, wiping away the sweat, Tsuzuru smiled weakly despite himself.

“That feels nice,” he murmured. Kazunari wondered if it was possible to catch someone’s fever in a matter of minutes, because he certainly felt like he had.

“I - I have more!” he said, clambering down the ladder as he tried to get a hold of himself - Tsuzurun was sick, Tsuzurun needed him to be responsible, this was his chance to show Tsuzurun that he could be responsible. Tsuzurun didn’t need someone trying to kiss him when he couldn’t breathe through his nose just because he looked like a soft and tender angel when he smiled like that. He grabbed some more things from the table and climbed back up.

“Here,” he said, fixing a cold sheet to Tsuzuru’s forehead. “Does that feel better?”

Tsuzuru made a quiet noise of agreement, turning his face to press it against Kazunari’s palm.

Blushing, Kazunari continued.

“I’ve got - what have I got - I’ve got cold meds, I brought, um, everything that was in the medicine cupboard, um, oh, wait, these are allergy meds, sorry, I just saw the picture of a nose and I thought - oh, and these, these are past their use by date - did you know cold meds had use by dates? These should be okay though - let’s see, fever, check, cough, check, sore throat - do you have a sore throat? I brought you a hot honey lemon drink just in case you -”

“Loud.”

Tsuzuru’s peaceful smile had turned into an all too familiar scowl, the impact of which was slightly lessened by the feverish blush on his cheeks and the slightly dazed look in his eyes.

“Stop talking.”

Tsuzuru took Kazunari’s hand and tugged it, pulling him forward so he was bent over the top of the ladder and his head landed on Tsuzuru’s chest.

“Be quiet. Stay here.”

Kazunari swallowed and tried to get his heart rate under control. He pushed himself back up with his free hand and managed to climb onto the bed without letting go of Tsuzuru’s hand, nestling himself in a corner with his legs crossed. He rarely had the opportunity to just watch his boyfriend sleep - neither of them had the money to spare on staying longer at a hotel than necessary, and on the occasions they did share a room overnight, on company trips and camps, Tsuzuru always woke up first. Kazunari couldn’t even spend too much time admiring him when they were awake, because Tsuzuru would get embarrassed and self-conscious and snap at him. He was left sitting in his room staring at the few selfies Tsuzuru would agree to take together, or the candids Tsuzuru had not agreed to and would never know about.

So even though Tsuzuru looked, objectively, pretty gross, Kazunari would happily take it. Just the fact that Tsuzuru had asked him to stay was, honestly, more than enough. Tsuzuru was always so reluctant to let himself be looked after, in any sense of the word, even though Kazunari just wanted to show Tsuzuru that he, how he, you know - that. He loved Tsuzuru’s boyish smile and loved it most when he was the one to inspire it, by finding a new stationery store before anyone else, or getting an invite to a writing workshop that was technically only for AmaBi students, or sometimes, if Tsuzuru was in a very, very good mood, for seemingly no reason at all. They’d be out for lunch together and Kazunari would look up from his pasta and Tsuzuru would have suddenly turned into the human embodiment of pure, innocent joy.

Overwhelmed with affection, Kazunari brushed his patient’s hair away from his face and leant down to press a kiss to his temple, the edge of the cool sheet contrasting with the warmth of Tsuzuru’s feverish skin. Not quite asleep, Tsuzuru stirred and pulled Kazunari’s hand to his lips.

“Thank you,” he said sleepily, “for taking care of me.”

Kazunari involuntarily gripped Tsuzuru’s hand tighter and swallowed loudly. He took it all back, this was a terrible decision, he was never going to try to look after, take care of, or indulge Tsuzuru ever again, it was too dangerous to his physical health.

(The selfie Kazunari posted later that afternoon, of himself and a sleeping Tsuzuru, captioned “poor bae is sick :((( good thing doctor kazu is in the house ;)” easily topped a few thousand likes, way more than he would have gotten for some fairy floss on ice-cream.)


End file.
